Harry Potter and the Mage's Grail
by Kage kitsune of light
Summary: Somehow, someway, The Triwizard Tournament was overwritten. What takes it place will test it's participants far more than anything else. After all, what would you do for a wish?
1. Chapter 1

"I dare say that the Goblet is almost ready to make its choice." Dumbledore said. He continued to speak, but Harry stopped listening. He was too young to participate, and he definitely didn't do anything to even try and put his name in the Goblet. He wouldn't participate, he couldn't! This year, the bad things would happen to someone else. He was taking a bloody break from having to save the school or what other nonsense usually came.

Dumbledore dimmed the Great Hall's lighting, and Harry looked at the brightest thing in the room. The light blue flames danced in a hypnotizing manner, softly illuminating the faces of those closest to it. It briefly brightened, causing him to look away as spots danced in his eyes. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, everyone waiting for the first name to be announced.

It was during this that a stranger opened the doors of the Great Hall, bathing him in light from the outside. It was a male, his shock white hair stood out starkly against his tanned skin, and his priestly garb only caused more whispers to fly. "That will not be necessary, I'm afraid your Triwizard Tournament has been mislabeled." There was only a beat of silence before whispers erupted with even more fervor. He walked right up to the staff table, while he was physically shorter than Dumbledore, his presence made it seem as if they were on equal ground or even that he overpowered the headmaster.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean, mister...?" One of the organizers, Lodo, spoke up from the table. The man didn't spare him a glance.

"This," he gestures to the goblet, who's flames still crackled. The hall went hush once more, "is not the Goblet of Fire, it is simply a stand-in for the Grail." The flames briefly spiked with intensity. "It is still choosing the masters, it seems. How odd it is though, that wizards are the ones to fight for it. It is, after all, a mage invention." He smiled as if he had no care in the world. Even as people went pale, even as muggleborn students asked their pure and half-blood friends what the matter was.

Harry James Potter felt his stomach twist in knots.

"I'm afraid without any proof, I cannot believe anything you say." It only took a few words for Dumbledore to regain control of the room. Yet the man simply shrugs.

"Believe what you wish. The war will happen all the same." And just like that, it was lost again. "A master has already been confirmed. She and her servant are already on the way."

Harry bit his lip, glancing nervously at his two friends. The goblet flared up once more, its flames a bright golden hue.

And just as suddenly as it flared, it extinguished.

Harry's hand itched.

The man turned to address the students. His smile made Harry break out into a cold sweat. It unnerved him, made his stomach roll. "I am the servant Ruler of this war, Amakusa Shirou. Search yourselves for command seals, and I shall guide you to the beginning of your fate." Harry clenched his fists, not daring to look. Amakusa's eyes seemed to stare directly at him. His hand burned, and even as there were shouts of surprise and questioning glances, he couldn't look. Amakusa looked away, and his fists unclenched.

"Mate, what's on the back of your hand?"


	2. The Mark

The mummering in the hall grew, with people looking around at others when they found nothing on themselves. Amakusa just watched, hands behind his back. The noise only grew louder, and Harry was so glad that Ron wasn't so loud in that moment. He was glad that no one paid attention to that question.

"Ah!" Everyone's attention turned to a Beauxbatons student who suddenly stood. "Th-there is something on the back of my hand!" Amakusa said nothing, but now he was watching the girl intently.

"Krum! Krum has something too!" And everyone turned to look at the Slytherin table. The Quidditch Star was staring dumbfounded at the back of his hand. Amakusa's head tilted, his smile becoming coy. His eyes drifted somewhere else, briefly resting on Harry.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Ron elbowed him, trying to get his attention, but Harry wouldn't respond.

Someone stood from the Hufflepuff table, Harry recognized him, it was Cedric. Harry could see the marks he was showing, standing out brightly in the boy's pale skin.

"I do too."

Harry was shaking. Ron was shaking him.

"Mate. Mate your _hand_." Harry could see others at the Gryffindor table looking at him, craning their necks.

"Harry are you alright? Harry answer us please."

"Those of you with marks, I congratulate you on being participants in the holy grail war." Amakusa's voice caused another hush. Everyone was compelled to listen to what he had to say, even if they wanted to protest against his words. "You will have to come with me, I'll guide you through summoning your servants."

Even if Harry didn't look, he couldn't deny the mark. He had one, so he found himself starting to stand.

"Students!" Dumbledore's voice echoed in the hall. "Stay in your places." Hardy froze, half out of his seat. The look Dumbledore leveled Amakusa with was thunderous. "Those students will not follow you." Amakusa seemed unbothered by the glare.

"Well," Amakusa crosses his arms and tilts his head. "I'm not seeing how you could teach them to summon their servant."

"They will not. I will not allow this war to happen." Amakusa's eyes go wide. Genuinely shocked at the conviction in those words. Then he throws his head back and laughs.

It's bitter and uncomfortable, and it lasts just enough for people to start squirming in their seats.

"You… you stop it?" He says when his laughter dies down. "It's already started. It's too late to stop it. The first servant has already been summoned, the church alerted to its start, and I am here. Refusing to participate only spells out death. You wizards are truly out of your depth here." He shakes his head. "Now, masters of the Grail War. Come with me if you wish to have a chance of surviving."

* * *

It had taken a while, but all the students had been dismissed. Even those with marks on the backs of their hands. Hogwarts students went to their respective houses, and the foreign students went to wherever their lodgings are. Harry had gone straight to bed. Brushing off any questions from his friends.

Finally, he looked at the back of his hand. Even though he already knew, he still felt the wind being knocked out of his lungs at the sight. The bright red lines stood out starkly against his skin, he tried to rub at the mark, hoping that somehow the intricate design would somehow go away if he rubbed hard enough.

It was no use. No matter how hard and for how long he rubbed. It was stuck to him as if it were etched into his skin.

He felt like the walls were closing in. He didn't know how late it was, nor did he care. He felt trapped, he needed to move. He scrambled out of bed, the only noise in the dorm was his heavy breathing and the snores of the other boys. He flung his chest open and dug for his cloak. He needed to escape. He needed answers. He wanted to know why. Why was it always him?

* * *

Amakusa roamed the halls of the castle that seemed to be the center point of the budding singularity. The talk he had with the headmasters of the various schools had gone on for a long time. Only recently stopped for the benefit of their rest and to give them time to process the information he gave them. It didn't matter if they listened to him or not. None of them were masters, they had no stake in the war. They were effectively stuck as bystanders. However, what happened immediately after the meeting was interesting.

Now there were two servants summoned. Just as he said, the war would happen. The rest would follow soon enough.

As he turned a corner, he saw a boy, partially invisible, sitting against the wall. His eyes caught the partially visible command seals, and he held back a sigh. So young…

"You're out late." The boy jumped, pulling up his hood in a panic and vanishing. Amakusa smiled, hoping it would put the boy at ease. "You won't get in trouble. I find late-night walks help me think as well." He pauses, "you have questions right? I'll answer them." The boy appeared again after only a few moments. Just as a floating head, but it was enough.

"Why me? Why was I chosen?" He demanded and Amakusa lets out an 'ah'.

"The grail decided you had enough potential to participate. That's all."

"Alright, but why?" Amakusa shrugs. Even he doesn't know the exact criteria for masters.

"The grail is just too fickle to understand, even if you dedicated years of study to it." He doesn't wait for another question to be asked. "You want to know what a Grail War is, right?"


End file.
